Normal
by Emerald-Leaves
Summary: Gilbert is tired of being made fun of for the way he looks, and while walking home one night, he meets a new friend who helps him out. Human names used. Warning: Moral in the end, Flying Mint Bunnies.


**Normal**

It all started out like any normal venture to the bar. The Bad Touch Trio plus Germany had gone to their favorite drinking place—well, not Ludwig's, but he had come along with the others for once—to partake in one of their favorite pass times: drinking. Beer was had, wine too, and soon the four nations were in a rather inebriated state. The Germans fared better than the Spaniard and the Frenchmen, but not by much, their bulk helping them tolerate the drinks more. All in all, it was a normal Saturday night. That is, until France came to a startling realization, his brilliance brought on by the alcohol flooding his brain.

"Y-you know what, _Prusse_?" the long-haired nation slurred slightly.

Not quite to the slurring stage yet, Prussia turned towards his friend with a giggle, being left in the slaphappy phase. "What's that, Franny?"

Scrunching up his face, as though trying to see the Prussian from a great distance, France pointed a wobbling finger into the albino's face. "Y-You're too, _toooooo _pale!"

Beside him, Spain laughed, lost in the "everything's-funny-for-no-reason" stage, slapping France on the back as though he had come up with the funniest joke in the history of the world. Gilbert snorted indignantly, before flashing a superior smirk, red eyes gleaming. "That's because I'm awesome."

"_Nein_, it's because you're albino," Germany answered bluntly, his stage of drunkenness rendering him completely truthful and mellow, as though he were at peace with the world— a far cry from his normal attitude.

"_Ssssssí, sí_, you're a' albino-ceros," Spain smiled stupidly before giggling himself pink, while France was sent into a laughing fit he couldn't stop. Even Germany chuckled at that one, gazing over at his brother affectionately before ruffling the snowy locks.

Any joy that Gilbert had been feeling disappeared when the teasing began. It wasn't that he couldn't take a joke, it was just that he didn't like having people laugh at his albinism. When he had been little, when Europe had been a far cry from what it was today, and all the wild wolves and bears still wandered through his land, Prussia had been treated poorly for his condition. Everyone that saw him at first believed him to be some sort of demon or elf. Even other personifications had found him too odd to be around, and he had been alone for a long time.

In that time of solitude, the albino had tried to console himself, had talked himself into believing that he was normal and that there was nothing wrong with him. He wasn't abnormal, he wasn't a freak, he was _special_, he was _unique_, and that made him _awesome_. Everyone else had just been jealous of how awesome he was, how extraordinary he was. Everyone else around him either had stupid blonde, black, or brown hair, but not Prussia. His was like silvery-snow, his eyes the color of rubies. There was no one else in the world like him. That made him better; that made him superior.

He had only just come to that conclusion before West—calling himself the Holy Roman Empire at the time—had sent his Teutonic Knights after the Prussian and had him conquered and converted. Unfortunately, although he was kept busy by Holy Rome, being awesome and pious by converting others around him to save their souls from eternal damnation, he didn't gain many friends. Holy Rome would talk to him, but the boy had always been so busy, he never had much time for the Prussian, and having been so mean and dominating, Prussia had been hesitate to call the other friend. Any other time he tried to speak to anyone else, his appearance kept anyone from getting too close, and so Prussia had been forced to work and struggle through life, clawing his way to the top until he _proved _he was better than everyone else.

And before his power peaked, he had found West, lost and confused, not even remembering his own name, and had taken him in due to the kindness and awesomeness of his heart after remembering the blonde's thoughtfulness to him, even if it had been a more professional relationship. It was only when he had West by his side that Prussia's lonesome had faded and he had gained a real friend. Ludwig didn't look at him like a freak, never had, not even the first day Gilbert had found him. Instead, the blonde had always looked up adoringly at him, believing him to be perfect—which he _was, _but it was still nice to have someone else realize it too.

Just when things seemed to be going _right_, the World Wars came about, and in the Second, Gilbert had been force to undergo several examinations as scientists and doctors tried to figure out what caused albinism. It had been as humiliating as it was painful and it left the kingdom feeling inhuman. It had upset Gilbert greatly, made him feel like a freak when his society was trying to purify itself. If it hadn't been for West stepping up and ending all research on his brother, then the albino wasn't exactly sure where he would be today. He had been allowed to leave, given special privileges since he _was _Prussia, the founder of the Empire, and sent to the Eastern Front to face off with their most dangerous and hated rival: Russia.

But while he had been grateful to Ludwig, Gilbert couldn't have helped the flare of jealousy and resentment he'd felt towards his brother during that period. Germany was the picture of perfection, and not just in German society. He was tall and strong, good looking with chiseled features, with blonde hair and blue eyes. _That _was what made him beautiful, his wonderful color, his pigmentation, and Prussia could not have helped the rush of envy any more than he could stop the flow of the Rhine with only his hands.

That was all in the past, however, and once again Gilbert knew that his albinism was a source of what made him awesome. He was so awesome, in fact, that he didn't _need _pigment! He was perfect the way he was. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, and anyone that thought there was could go kiss his snow-white as—

"I wish you w-were normal." France's slurred sentence caught the Prussian off guard, and totally derailed his train of thought. "I w-wonder what you'd l-look like being _normal._"

"Don' be mean!" Spain chided, followed by a giggle. "H-he's normal for a'…a' albino-ceros!"

Once again, the Mediterranean nations were lost in their mirth, while Germany smiled gently, humming the beginning of a peppy little tune. "Don't listen to them, _Bruder_," Ludwig placed what was probably meant to be a comforting hand, but ended up being stone-heavy and painful. "I-I don't care that I can't find you in a snowstorm. You're just a little pale is all. There's nothing wrong with you," he stared into his brother's eyes with drunken sincerity.

The mention of snow had the other two bar hoppers crying they were laughing so hard. "W-we sh-should call you _Snowflake _now!" France was clutching at his sides as he chortled. Spain was slapping the counter as he howled with laughter, his face a red as his beloved tomatoes.

Suddenly feeling much more sober, Gilbert scowled at everyone before he stood and walked out of the bar without a second thought. He thought he heard Ludwig call out for him, but he didn't stop. A nice walk around the block would clear his head of the homicidal thoughts that now coursed through his mind. Maybe he'd even walk home.

_Stupid France! Stupid Spain! Stupid West! _He felt a little guilty for the last thought, but pushed it down. Ludwig had been a jerk. It didn't matter that he had been drunk, there was no excuse for what he'd said…But then again, he had never actually _told _the younger German how much it hurt when people teased him about his…_condition_.

Sighing, Gilbert kicked a can down the sidewalk, shoving his hands into his pockets. He walked around the block before his feet automatically directed him towards his house. He almost made it back before he heard something rustling in a nearby bush. Curious, Prussia stalked forward, preparing himself to leap out of the way and run should it be some sort of vicious animal, or worse, Hungary with her frying pan. But instead of anything _normal_, a small green rabbit with wings popped out, floating in the air before him, smiling.

"What the hell?!" the albino flinched, stumbling backwards.

"Hi there!" The rabbit…thing spoke.

"W-What the hell are you?!" Prussia stared at the creature disbelievingly, looking around to see if there was anyone else witnessing this strange creature, or if he was the only one.

The little abomination to nature smiled in delight, not at all offended by the rather rude question. "Why, I'm magical! I'm one of Mr. England's friends. Do you know him?"

"Arthur?" Gilbert's eyes bulged a bit. "You know Arthur? Y-you mean all his crazy talk about mythical creatures _wasn't _a load of crock? Magical creatures are…are _real_?"

"Of course we are, silly!" the rabbit giggled.

"Yeah, but who the hell has ever heard of a weird talking, flying…mint-green…bunny?" the albino crossed his arms, frowning at the animal. "That's just ridiculous."

"No more ridiculous than a creature incased in a human-like body that possesses superhuman strength, intelligence, endurance, can withstand more physical damage than what should be possible, has the opportunity to live forever, and is connected to a certain group of people, culture, and land," the mint bunny replied tartly.

There was really no good answer to that. "Good point," the personification acquiesced. "Well, I guess I'll be going. I need to get home. And sober up so I don't hallucinate anymore," he muttered the last part under his breath.

"Oh, you're going home?" the creature asked. "Can I come with you? I don't want to be in the cold all by myself in a strange place at night."

Usually it was West that brought home stray animals, the big guy having a soft spot in his heart for furry little creatures, but seeing that sad look on the magic bunny's face melted Gilbert's heart a bit. He looked around once more, as if expecting someone to run out to him to gawk at the flying creature, before the albino decided that he was probably the only one that could see this thing. If anyone saw Prussia right now, they'd probably just think he was talking to a bush. As his face heated up with embarrassment at the thought, the albino decided that this is how Britain probably felt when people caught him talking to nothing but air, only worse.

Sighing, Gilbert nodded. "_Ja_, I guess so. Come on."

Prussia guided the strange creature to the house and unlocked the door. "So, what should I call you, exactly?" he asked once they were inside. "Do you have a name?"

"Of course I do, silly!" the bunny laughed. "But you can't pronounce it with that awkward tongue of yours."

"Hey!" Gilbert cried. "Just because I'm not British like you're used to, doesn't mean that—"

"Oh no," the little green creature giggled, its cheeks flushing an adorable pink. "That's not what I meant, silly. I mean you cannot pronounce it and neither can anyone else, not even Mr. England. Human tongues are such awkward, complex things."

"Oh." Well, now Gilbert felt like an idiot. "So what should I call you then?"

"Hmmm…" the bunny thought. "Well, Mr. England just calls me 'Flying Mint Bunny.' You can call me that too, if you'd like."

"Naw, too descriptive," the albino snorted as he walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, not liking that he and Britain had come up with the same name. He was _way _more awesome than England, he needed to do better. "I'm gunna call you Fritz. You're just in my imagination anyway, so I might as well call you something I'll remember."

"Fritz?" the mint bunny cocked its little head to the side.

"Well, I'm gunna go sleep off this terrible night and hopefully not wakeup with too nasty a' hangover. Night, Fritz," Prussia began walking doing into his basement room. "If you're still here in the morning I'm checking myself into the mental ward."

The animal frowned. "Are you sad, Mr. Prussia?"

Gilbert stiffened. "How do you know my name?"

"I know all the nations," it informed him proudly. "I've been to several of your meetings throughout the years with Mr. England. So, are you sad?"

"What the hell, this is just like me admitting something to myself," Gilbert reasoned, still believing the bunny was just a projection of his own stressed consciousness. "If you must know, Fritz, yes. Yes I am. Everyone thinks I'm a freak for being albino…They should really think I'm a freak because I'm talking drunkenly to an imaginary flying mint bunny. Well, good night," he turned towards the stairs again and began walking down. "Seriously though, if I see you in the morning, I'm making West take me to the asylum."

The moment he was in his room, the Prussian stripped down to his boxers, went to brush his teeth in his bathroom, before flopping down on his bed. Gilbird pecked his head angrily, not like being jostled around, but for once, the albino ignored him. He wasn't in the mood to get into a fight with Gilbird again—he still had the scars from the last time. He didn't have to worry, in any case, as the alcohol in his system was doing its work and pulled his eyes closed. In a matter of three minutes, Gilbert was fast asleep.

He never heard the flying mint bunny open his door.

**oOoOoOo**

The next morning, Gilbert woke with a groan. His mouth felt like it had cotton in it, and his eyes seemed far too sensitive. His head was pounding, and Gilbird was pecking it, demanding food. Scowling, the Prussian rolled over, trying to go back to sleep and ignore his annoying little pet.

"Come _on _Gilbird! Let me alone!" But the little bird would have none of it.

Sighing dramatically, the albino sat up with a moan. It took him several seconds before he could summon the will to swing his legs over the bed and place his feet on the floor. Standing up rather zombie-like, Gilbert began shuffling towards the stairs. Gilbird chirped excitedly and flew over to rest in his master's hair. "Geez buddy, not so loud," Gilbert muttered, finding the stairs much more challenging than they should have been.

Once on the main flood, the smell of coffee wafted over to the hung-over nation, alerting him that his younger brother was awake. He prayed West was just as miserable and hung-over as he was so that the blonde wouldn't lecture him about running off last night, leaving him all alone with Tonio and Francis. _That would be _just _want I need to start off my morning_, he thought sourly.

Walking into the kitchen, Gilbert saw Ludwig's back turned as he was making toast. Plopping down into his usual chair, the albino sighed. "Thank _God _you're awake. Get me some headache medicine and then feed this little pest," he demanded, taking the bird from his hair.

The blonde turned around, looking like he was about to yell, before his eyes widened. In the next instant, Gilbert found himself with his face in the table and his arms being twisted behind his back painfully. "OWW!" he screamed. "What the hell?!"

"Shut up!" Ludwig growled fiercely. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house? What the hell have you done with my brother?" He twisted the elder German's arm more excruciatingly at the last question.

"OUCH! Wha—West, it's me! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Damn, when had his sweet, innocent baby brother turned into the brute squad, he wondered not for the first time.

Ludwig snorted. "Nice try," he sneered. "But the next time you want to impersonate my brother, you might want to think about _trying_ to look likehim."

"What are you talking ab—!" Gilbert trailed off, when his hair fell into his eyes. It would not have been anything special, except for the fact that it was different. It was dark. It was very dark. It was _brown_.

"_Gott in Himmel! _West! M-my hair's _brown_!" he cried excitedly, trying to wiggle out of his brother's painful grip. Where had the blonde learned to be so violent anyway? "But how…? Fritz! It must have been Fritz! He must have turned my hair dark! Get off me, Ludwig, I need to see myself!"

The German must have been stunned, because Gilbert managed to slip out of the blonde's hold and ran to the hallway and looked into the mirror. He gasped with what he saw. Staring back at him was a man with the skin tone similar to West's, with dark brown hair, chestnut, and piercing blue eyes, almost as cold as Germany's. There was no white hair. There were no red eyes. There was no albino in the mirror.

"Look at me!" he cried in utter delight, turning to his brother who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, openly gawking at him, apparently realizing that the man before him was indeed his brother. "I'm _beautiful_!"

The blonde didn't respond right away, but his face looked pale. "W-what happened to you, _Bruder_?" Ludwig expression was stricken. "How could this have happened?"

"It was Fritz," Gilbert beamed, sure of himself. "He must have done this to thank me for letting him in last night."

"You saw Old Fritz last night?" the blonde frowned, looking worriedly at his brother.

"No! Not Old Fritz, that stupid flying mint bunny that Britain goes on and on about all the time," he explained as though it was all completely logical before turning around to look at himself in the mirror. "I look so _awesome_!"

Ludwig didn't reply, though it seemed as though he wanted to. "But what about your white hair? You're red eyes? You look so…so…"

"Awesome?"

"Normal."

Gilbert frowned. "Being normal is a good thing, West," he snorted. "This isn't bad, this is great! This is the best thing _ever_! I'm not a freak anymore!" he beamed.

Germany scowled. "'A freak'? Who the hell ever said you were a freak? _Bruder_, I thought you _liked _being an albino. Didn't you always say that's what made you awesome?"

"No way!" Prussia argued. "I only said that because I was a freak. Being normal is way better. West, we totally have to go out around the town! Show off my awesome new look! Maybe I should grow a mustache," he mused, pawing at his upper lip thoughtfully, completely ignoring his brother.

It took a long moment before Ludwig seemed able to compose an answer. "You really want this, _Bruder_?" his voice was hesitant, almost sad. "You don't want to be albino?"

"Hell no!" Gilbert kept posing for himself in the mirror, too busy marveling at his new look to notice his brother's wounded expression.

With a heavy sigh, the blonde's shoulders sagged a little bit. "All right. If that's what you want. Maybe we should get ready."

"Awesome!" the former albino cried before racing down to his room, excited to pick out an outfit that matched his new hair.

**oOoOoOo**

An hour later found the two brothers out and about the town. Gilbert was so excited, he was almost bouncing. So far, their day out had been completely amazing! No one had stared at him, no one had pointed or whispered, and no little kids had cried when they saw him! No one made those un-awesome comments about him being possessed or terrifying, or anything! He was normal! He fit in! This was the best day of his life!

"Isn't today _awesome, _West?" Gilbert asked, slapping his brother on the back, not really caring for an answer.

"I guess," Ludwig muttered. "We're probably going to have to get you new records and photo ID's now that you've…changed. Security at the office is way up."

The elder brother snorted. "How very practical you are, West," he rolled his blue eyes, before another idea struck him. "Pictures! West, I forgot about those! We need to go take some _right now_!"

Before Germany could have protested, Gilbert grabbed his brother's hand and ran down the hall of the mall. He found an old photo booth and shoved the blonde in unceremoniously before crawling in himself. "Smile for the camera, West!" he laughed.

After several poses, mostly consisting of him pushing his brother out of the way to hog the shot, Prussia climbed out and grinned when the pictures came out, showing off his dark locks. "I look so good!" he squealed, before grabbing his brother's hand again and racing off to a different store on the opposite end of the mall.

The two Germans spent their entire Sunday this way, running around the mall, to different little shops, and at the bar, Gilbert showing off to anyone that would look his way. The next day, he called up his friends to flaunt his pigmentation. They had been flabbergasted, but wholeheartedly approved. He caused quite a stir at work, too, when everyone saw their eastern personification and his new image. It was the most fun Gilbert had had in a long time, feeling normal and accepted. However, throughout his tirade of excitement, he didn't seem to notice his brother's growing melancholy.

One afternoon, as they sat eating lunch together, Ludwig's frowning caught Gilbert's attention. "What?" the older brother asked. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Why do you have dark hair?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" Prussia was taken back.

"Why do you have dark hair?" Ludwig repeated. "We're brothers but I have blonde hair. Why is it that you have such dark hair?"

"I don't know," Gilbert shrugged. "Luck of the genetic drawl? Does it really matter? I mean, I've got blue eyes like you."

"Yes, but mine are lighter. _I'm _lighter than _you_."

"So?" There was a long pause that passed between the two brothers, Ludwig securitizing the Prussian in such as way that made the older nation uncomfortable. "What's your problem, West?" he snapped, growing annoyed at the uneasiness he felt.

"You look like Austria."

Gilbert choked on his own spit, and once he had recovered, he could only sit in his seat, completely shocked. "E-excuse me? I do _not _look like that pampered aristocrat!" he snarled, disgusted with the very notion.

"Yes you do," Ludwig stated bluntly, frowning. "Your hair is his exact color. So is your skin tone. Your eyes are similar to mine, but they are darker."

The elder German started to feel sick. "W-well, who care? What does that have to do with anything? I mean, Austria _is _our cousin, after all," he tried to scowl, but his nervousness at his younger brother's stare prevented it.

"_Bruder_…What if you and I aren't actually related?" There was a great sadness and fear in those usually cold blue eyes. "What if you're really Austria's brother?"

Gilbert felt his blood run cold. "I am _not Österreich_'_s _brother! I'm _your _brother, West! I-I told you!"

"_Ja_, but you also _found _me when I was little. _Bruder_…did you lie to me when you found me?" Ludwig looked truly horrified at the thought. "We're not really brothers at all, are we? I know that nations don't really ever know how closely related they are to one another for sure in most cases, but I had always thought that we…"

"Don't even think it, West!" the Prussian cried, starting to feel panicked. "W-we're brothers! It doesn't even matter if we're not blood related, that doesn't make us any less brothers!"

The blonde stared for a long time at the brunette across from him before he stood, looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I'm going back to work. I'll pick you up here in two hours, East."

"Aww, come on, West!" Gilbert stood up, rushing after his brother. "Don't be like this! W-we're brothers!"

"I'll be here in two hours," Germany repeated before he walked out of the mall, leaving the Prussian alone to muse.

It couldn't be true! …could it? Ludwig had been right, Gilbert _had _lied to him when he had been a child, telling him that they were brothers for sure. But to his credit, Prussia _had _thought that Germany was his brother. Their cultures were just too similar for them _not _to be related! But even if he wasn't blood to Ludwig, he had meant what he said; Gilbert thought of West as his own. He didn't care about blood. They were brothers in arms, brothers in spirit, brothers in culture. Just because they might not share the same parents did _not _mean that he was suddenly Austria's brother! _That _was impossible…right?

Wandering around, Prussia tried to sort out all of his thoughts. As he made his way through the busy crowd, several people bumped into him, even though they had had plenty of room to get out of the way. After the fourth time it happened, just when Gilbert was about to lose his temper, the other guy did. "Hey, watch it, buddy!" he growled.

"You watch it!" the nations scowled back. "I was right in front of you, and you still nearly plowed me over!"

"Yeah, well that's not my fault that you're invisible!"

The ex-nation was so stunned by the answer, he froze in place. He didn't feel the hard shove when the rude man pushed past him to continue on his way, nor did he feel the other people bustling about the increasingly crowded mall, pushing and shoving him so that they, too, could get to their destinations. When Gilbert finally came out of his momentary paralysis, he found his feet taking him to a sitting area outside one of the stores. He flopped down heavily.

That guy had been _completely _out of line! Gilbert was _not _invisible! He was as perfectly noticeable as he'd always been. It wasn't his fault that that guy must have been blind. Stuff like this never used to happen to him when he had been albino. In fact, it was hard hiding—except for snow storms—anywhere because his silvery locks had always stood out so sharply against most surroundings, and his red eyes were striking, standing out in the pale face. He had been instantly recognizable with his unique appearance.

But he didn't want to go back to being like that! No way! He was a lot happier and normal being a brunette that did _not _look anything like Austria. His friends had told him he looked good when they went out drinking, and their night had been calm, with each of them going home a bit earlier than most nights. His boss had approved of his change, saying it looked good if he seemed to be blending into society instead of sticking out. No one stared, no one pointed, no one cried when they saw him coming…if they saw him coming…

A couple was walking out of a store and turned to come sit down in the area as well. Gilbert watched in horror as the man sat down directly on top of him. "Hey!" he cried, shoving the idiot off.

"I'm so sorry!" the man yelped, blushing.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" the Prussian asked, his temper ignited.

"I'm sorry!" the man yelped again, holding up his hands in a form of surrender. "I just didn't see you there!"

Gilbert paled. "Sorry, we'll go," the woman nodded apologetically towards the stunned nation before grabbing the man's hand and dragging him off, both going at a quick pace as though trying to outrun the embarrassment.

Didn't see him? _Didn't see him?_ Panic ceased the former nation, and he stood up looking around as though there would be something to calm him down right in front of his face. Was he really invisible? Did no one ever notice him anymore? While Gilbert had lived a life of sticking out, constantly being made fun of, at least it had gotten him attention. In his lonely years, that was the only thing that had kept him going some years, knowing that people would at least talk to him because of his strange appearance.

Not being noticeable, being invisible, was Gilbert's worst nightmare. If he was invisible, then no one could see him, couldn't appreciate how awesome he was and all that he could do! If he were invisible, people might start to forget about him. _West_ might start forgetting about him! What would become of him then? He was only still alive because of Ludwig's generosity to keep him as thus, so if West forgot about him, then he'd forget about keeping the Prussian alive, surely! Gilbert didn't want to die! He didn't want to fade!

Stumbling forward, the albino rushed into the crowd, pushed people out of his way a bit too roughly with his nation-strength. He ran to the photographer that he had taken his brother too at the beginning of the week and shoved everyone out of line so that he could talk to the photographer.

"Am I unique?" the Prussian blurted before the human could yell at him for disrupting the order of the shop.

The photographer stared at the potential, troublesome patron for a long moment, apparently too horribly confused to remember to be angry. "What?"

"A-am I unique?" Gilbert asked again, not realizing how weird he was being. Everyone in Germany knew what their personifications looked like, and thus, knew how eccentric the former State of Prussia was, so he could usually get away with outbursts such as these. But it was at the man's uncomfortable, confused expression that made personification remember he was not the crazy albino that everyone knew and excused."Do I stand out? Do you remember me?" he pleaded, _needing _recognition.

The man behind the counter frowned, even as he looked like he might push the button to call the police from under the counter. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have a lot of people come in and out of my doors. I can't be expected to remember every single one of them."

"I was with a really tall, muscular blonde man with blue eyes," the nation cried desperately.

"I'm sorry, sir, but—"

"I was with Germany!"

At last, the brown eyes across from him lit up with recognition. "Oh! _Herr Deutschland_? Oh yes, he was in here the other day."

"And so was I!" Gilbert nodded enthusiastically.

The photographer frowned, before shaking his head. "No, I'm sorry, I don't remember anyone being with him."

"It was _my _idea to have pictures taken with him!" the Prussian cried desperately, pounding his fist on the desk. "I'm in every Goddamned one!"

Suddenly recognition visibly dawned on the man's features, and he brightened up considerably. "Oh!" he exclaimed, calming the Prussian's agitated nerves a bit. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize you for a minute," the photographer apologized. "That's not usually the type of outfit you wear, is it?"

It really was an ordinary outfit for the personification, but he didn't comment and followed the photographer when the man beckoned. They went to the backroom where the portraits were kept. As the man went through the pictures, he went on talking in an apologetic, friendly manner. "You changed your hair too, didn't you?" He turned to look curiously at the nation.

"_Ja_," Gilbert nodded sharply.

"Hmm…I don't think I've ever thought of you without that curl of yours," the human went on, as he pulled up the pictures he'd been looking for.

"Curl?" the Prussian frowned.

"Here we are," the photographer, pulled out the developed pictures, and even went and grabbed a large photo, already in an old frame Gilbert recognized from long ago. West must have brought it sometime this week. "I must say, I never realized it before, but you didn't stand out very well in the picture," the human admitted. "We really had to work hard to bring you out a little more."

With shaking hands, Gilbert took the big portrait along with the smaller pictures, feeling sick. "Is that so?" he muttered absentmindedly as he stared at the picture.

The man was right. West dominated the photograph, his pale skin and sharp features standing out strikingly with the dark background. And standing next to him, looking faded and shallow compared to the impressively large man, was him. The dark brown hair seemed to match the background almost completely and the darker blue eyes looked less than remarkable. The human was right, it must have been work to make him stand out, it must have taken _a lot _of work.

"Well, I hope you're pleased with the results, _Herr Österreich_," the human smiled. Gilbert froze in revulsion. "Now, was the bill going to be taken care of by you or _Herr Deutschland_?"

But Gilbert didn't hear the man anymore. His hands went numb and the lovely portrait of West fell from his fingers, crashing down onto the hard, unforgiving floor. The antique frame cracked, and the human cried out in alarm. But again, the nation didn't hear him. Feeling nauseous, the ordinary man stumbled out of the backroom and through the store. He pushed through the people standing around, all annoyed from his outburst in the beginning, before he rushed out into the hall of the mall, quickly engulfed by those hurrying by. The personification ended up stumbling until he sat down on a bench, just staring into the store.

"Come on!" the photographer rushed out with another man. "We have to find Mr. Austria. He didn't look well!"

The helper nodded quickly before rushing out into the crowd. The photographer looked about quickly, until his eyes fell directly on Gilbert. The man's eyes didn't transmit recognition at all, not even after he had just seen the German, and he rushed off in the opposite direction in his search for the man he believed was the southern Germanic nation. It nearly sent the Prussian into a fit.

His phone vibrated just then, and the ordinary looking German pulled out the small device, nearly dropping it, in his rush to pull it from his pocket. There was a text from West: _Running late. You'll have to catch a cab. Ludwig._

Gilbert found himself extremely saddened and strangely frightened by the idea of his brother not coming to get him. His breaths came in more quickly, and vaguely the Prussian realized he was starting to hyperventilate. What was he going to do? What was he supposed to do?!

"The bar!" he exclaimed in delighted desperation. France and Spain were supposed to meet him there later tonight. West would swing by later to get him there after work.

Rushing out of the mall, the distraught man found it was difficult to catch a cab when it appeared no one noticed him. It didn't matter if he waved or screamed or anything, no one saw him. Furious, fraught, Gilbert finally gave up and started running. The bar was only a few miles away and he was pretty fast. So he sprinted through the bustling streets of Berlin, trying hard not to bump into the people who didn't take any notice of him.

Once outside the bar, he doubled over panting, clutching his knees. For some reason, running five miles had taken much more out of him than it normally would have. He felt weak and sweat poured down his face. When he wiped it away, he stared down for a moment, trying to catch his breath. But upon looking down, his breath was completely taken away.

_What had happened to his feet?! _

They were there, but he could see through them, like he was a ghost or something. Completely freaked out, Gilbert rushed into the bar, his eyes searching wildly for his friends. At last, he saw them, sitting at the bar, like usual, the bright blonde hair of France and the vivid green eyes of Spain instantly drawling attention.

"Guys! Guys!" he cried, stumbling through the small spattering of people to reach his friends.

When they saw him, for a moment, the two other nations just stared at their third companion in confusion and a little annoyance on France's part. "Can we help you?" the Frenchmen drawled.

Dismayed, Gilbert grabbed a hold of the blonde. "Frances!" he cried.

"O-oh! Gilbert, _mon ami_," the blonde blinked several times. "My word, I'd forgotten about your…appearance change."

"Doesn't matter, I need your guys' help!" the German rushed. "M-my feet! I-I can s-see through them!"

"Calm down, _amigo_," Spain's cheerful voice did nothing for the brunette. "Why don't we get you a drink, no? You need to relax."

Gilbert paled. "I don't think you understand what I just told you!" he cried. "L-look at my feet…ah! My legs too! You can see right through them now, too!"

"You need to relax," France repeated the Spaniard lazily. "Now either sit down and join us or shut up."

The two Mediterranean toasted each other before drinking down their wine, laughing, not taking their other friend's terror seriously. The lack of concern sent another sharp spike of fear through the German's heart. Frightfully, Gilbert ran to the window, looking out, trying to see his brother in the crowd. West had to come here, he just _had _to! He needed the younger man to be here. The Prussian wasn't sure he had ever been so scared in his life.

A large influx of people came into the bar soon after, many just getting off work. Soon, the personification was pushed up near the window by the crowd, separating him from his friends. But that wasn't the primary concern of the Prussian. He was too busy lamenting that he could now see through his chest and hands. His whole body was transparent now.

Just when Gilbert thought he was going to break down, hope entered through the doors in form of his brother. "West!" he cried, relieved and hopeful, knowing that if anyone could help him, Ludwig could. Ludwig _had _to.

Hearing his brother's cry, the big blonde looked around the bar, stiffening as he went on full alert. Gilbert's heart leap in joy. His brother heard him. His brother _heard _him! But that brief moment of excitement dissolved into despair when Ludwig's eyes swept the room, passing over his elder brother, not seeing him at all.

Germany walked over to the bar, to France and Spain, even as Gilbert struggled to reach his brother through the crowd. "Have you two seen, East?" the big German asked.

The other two nations gazed up at the other serious blonde before looking around. "He was just here," Spain said thoughtfully. "Huh. Must have gone home. He was looking for you."

Ludwig frowned. "I thought he'd know I'd come get him here," he mused out loud. "Thank you," he nodded to the other two before turning towards the door.

"West!" Gilbert reached out for his brother, his throat tightening.

Once more, the blonde stopped in his tracks, snapping his head around to search the room. _He can still hear you_, the Prussian thought hopefully. _There's still a chance! _

"What's the hurry?" France called out to Germany, smiling not unkindly. "Why don't you stay a bit, have a drink with us?"

"Yeah!" Spain nodded enthusiastically. "It's more fun drinking in a trio."

The larger man looked distinctly uncomfortable with the invitation, but he paused. His icy blue eyes, now filled with concern, swept across the bar again, before he shook his head slowly, negatively. "No. I need to go home to Gilbert."

Appreciation flooded through the older German at his little brother's words, and finally he broke free from the people blocking his view. He ran as fast as he could out the door his brother had stepped through a moment before. "West!" he called. "West!" The blonde kept up his pace, not hearing his elder brother, Gilbert hoped because of the roar of traffic. "WEST!"

When he reached his younger brother, the Prussian tried to touch the bigger man's shoulder and watched in horror as his hand passed through the German. The instant it happened, however, Ludwig stopped, a violent shiver passing through his body. He turned around, pale blue eyes wide, searching, like he knew something important had happened, but he just didn't know what.

"West, it's me! It's Gilbert!" the Prussian cried. "I'm right here, in front of you!" he laughed nervously, trying to run a hand through his hair, only to realize he couldn't see his hands at all anymore, nor the rest of his body. "W-West!"

"Gilbert?" The sound of his name from his brother's lips was the most beautiful thing the Prussian had ever heard in his life. "Gilbert, are you there?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm here, West!" Gilbert broke down into tears.

"Gilbert?" the blonde frowned, turning away from his brother to look around.

"I'm right here, Ludwig!" the elder brother cried desperately. "Please, help me! Just…just reach out to me, right in front of you!"

But Ludwig's frown didn't disappear, nor did he respond to the other's petitions. Instead, Germany took one more look around before he started walking again. He hadn't really heard his brother at all.

"West!" Gilbert cried. "West, please! Stop!" He could feel himself nearly gone, he was almost completely faded. "West, stop! Help me! Oh God, please help me!"

But no one heard the anguished pleas of the old personification, and even as he screamed, life went on, as though he hadn't existed at all.

"AAAHHH!" the silent wail mingled in with the blowing wind.

**oOoOoOo**

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Gilbert shot up in bed, screaming. He screamed until his throat was nearly raw. He screamed until he finally realized that he was in his bedroom and not standing fading away in the streets.

He was startled when he heard stomping up above and a frantic call of, "East?!"

Hearing the sound of his brother's voice, Gilbert tore off his covers and jumped up from the bed. He ran up the stairs in the blink of an eye, and when he opened up his door, he collided with the hard chest of his little brother. Apparently not expecting any sort of collision, Germany was caught off guard, so when the elder German launched himself into the blonde, he fell backwards onto the floor with a loud, "_Oof_!"

Not letting hurting his brother get him down, the Prussia sat on the blonde, grabbing his face between sweaty hands. "West!" he cried, smiling brightly. "West, can you see me? I'm here, West, I'm right here!"

"_Gott in Himmel_! M-my back! Get the hell _off _of me!" Ludwig yelled, slapping his brother's hands away, and throwing him off. "You're so annoying," he muttered.

Still frightened from believing he'd faded, Gilbert was not at all dissuaded, even when his brother literally picked him up and threw him away. Scrambling to sit up, the elder German crawled over on his hands and knees to where his younger brother had managed to sit up, holding his head. "Yeah, but can you see me?" he pressed, waving his hands in front of cold blue eyes. "See, I'm right in front of you, West. Can you see me? Huh? Can you? West?"

Germany's eye twitched severely as his annoyance levels rose to critical, and once his brother started waving his hands about in his face, the blonde snapped. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, causing the other to flinch away. "Of _course _I see you, I'm not blind, _Dummkopf_," he snarled.

But ignoring the insult, not even processing it, Gilbert flung his arms around his little brother tightly, nearly causing the younger to fall backwards again. "Oh, West!" he cried happily. "You can see me!" He planted a kiss on the top of the blonde's head, much to Ludwig's embarrassment. "You can see me!"

Growling halfheartedly, the younger German pushed his brother away from him, a deep blush burning his cheeks. "Why wouldn't I?" he muttered. "It's kind of hard to miss a flying albino," he snorted.

"Albino?" the Prussian froze, eyes widening. "I'm albino?"

Clambering to his feet, not noticing his brother's worried expression, Gilbert ran to the hallway mirror, and the sight that greeted him was the most perfect one in the world. There, Prussia stood staring back at him, silver-white hair sticking up messily, ruby red eyes sparkling, and pale white skin standing out starkly from the black tank-top he'd worn to bed. It was him. It was the Awesome Prussia, in all of his perfect, albino glory.

"It's me!" he cried delightedly, jumping up and down like a little kid on Christmas morning. "It's me!" he turned to look at his brother, who was now eyeing him like some sort of wild animal as he pointed to the mirror. "It's me!"

Hesitantly, Germany walked forward towards his brother, looking concerned. "Were…you expecting to see someone _else _in the mirror?" he asked carefully.

Seeing the look on his brother's face sent the albino into a fit of laughter. "_Kesesesesesese!_" he cackled, which didn't appease his younger brother's fears. "Just making sure Austria wasn't there," he winked at the blonde, knowing full well he was freaking West out.

"A-Austria?" Ludwig asked warily.

Gilbert just laughed again before he turned to look at himself again, smiling brightly at the strange looking man that stared back. "No Austria, no flying mint bunny Fritz, no _normal_!" he flung himself at his brother again, hugging him tightly, causing the younger personification to stiffen. "I'm abnormal again!"

"'Abnormal'?" the big man frowned. "_Bruder_, is this about last night? Because I told you, there's nothing wrong with you. You're normal for _you_."

The albino paused his crushing hug before looking up into shining blue eyes. "I'm normal for me…" he repeated, letting the words sink in.

Not wanting to let the blonde see just how much the words had affected him or how much he appreciated them, the albino punched the younger German on the shoulder. "Pfff!" he rolled his eyes. "I'm not _normal_, I'm _awesome! _Geez, West, how many times do I have to tell you that? Now," he clapped his hands together, "where's my breakfast?"

Ludwig looked torn between being relieved that his brother was no longer depressed about the thoughtless conversation from the previous evening and thoroughly annoyed with his elder brother for his rude behavior. "It's almost done," he muttered before he pushed past the albino to stalk back into the kitchen.

Laughing happily, the Prussian nearly skipped into the kitchen before plopping down in his chair, adoring the familiarity of having breakfast with West. As he watched the bulky blonde flipping pancakes, a giggle bubbled up inside Gilbert and he couldn't stop it. When his brother turned around with a raised eyebrow, the albino just couldn't help but laugh again.

"_Kesesesesesese_! Poor West," he drawled in mock-pity, "having to be normal."

"You are so weird," Germany muttered, turning back around to finish breakfast, trying desperately to hide his smile.

And so, while enjoying the normalcy of breakfast with his brother, Gilbert just took a moment to truly appreciate how wonderful his life really was. The dogs were eating from their dishes quietly and Gilbird was pecking at the seed West had set out for the fluffy yellow bird. He had an awesome home, with awesome food, and an above average awesome little brother who took care of him and loved him. He was safe at home with West, not forgotten, not blending in. He was just relieved that his experience with being "normal" had all been a really messed up, terrible drea—

"AH!" the albino screamed suddenly.

Startled, the blonde jumped. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Flying Mint Fritz!" he cried, pointing out the window. The bunny waved cheerfully at him.

"What?" Ludwig frowned incredulously, horrible confused.

"Quick! Quick, get the Lugar, West, before it gets in!" The albino jumped up a little too quickly.

_CRASH_!

"My dishes!" Germany cried in despair, but Gilbert didn't really hear him.

"Quick! The Lugar, before it gets away!"

"_Bruder_, wait! No!"

_CRASH_!

More dishes fell to the floor when the albino kicked the table…which incidentally knocked over the table too, breaking the leg off. "M-My table!..._BRUDER!_"

The two German rushed around the house, the albino in search of the Lugar he knew his brother kept hidden somewhere, the blonde after the apparently insane Prussian. The Flying Mint Bunny smiled happily as it watched the slightly dysfunctional family with satisfaction. Well, it had done what it had set out to do, to make Mr. Prussia happy. Now it decided that perhaps it would go east. It had always wanted to see Russia…

And with that, the little bunny flew off, leaving behind the perfectly normal abnormal family.

* * *

**Author's Note: **The lesson? Be careful what you wish for or a Flying Mint Bunny will come and make you look vaguely like Austria. O.O True fact…either that or the ever thought provoking, philosophical "What is normal?" Yeah. Chew on that. Emerald can be a big girl and read philosophers too…only when I have too…

I don't know what this is. I'd started it a while back when I saw a photo-shopped "realistic" picture of a Flying Mint Bunny the other day, then stopped, then my family told me I was really weird and abnormal when I started stating random history facts. At least no one can say I'm not interesting….

Please drop me a review on your way out, please, as I'd be most beholdin' to ya! Happy In Between Canada and America's Birthday! :D


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